Day 270

These are two herring gulls I saw yesterday on George's Island.  I was fascinated to see that each of them had a constant drip of water from the beak.  Seagulls are one of the few land animals that can drink salt water.  They have a special gland above their eyes which basically separates and excretes the salt, and this is then secreted from the nostrils in a fluid, hence the dripping bill. 

Apparently herring gulls were hunted nearly to extinction in the 1800's, but they survived and have become very successful, and are considered pests by many people, the "rats" of the beach.

My mother loved seagulls though, and so she passed on that love to me.  (I also confess to loving pigeons).  Sometimes we would go, as a treat on a wintry Sunday afternoon, to Greenpoint to feed the seagulls all the old bread my mother had saved up during the week, and if we didn't have any old bread my dad would buy a half-loaf with which to feed them.  I could stand next to the car and hold up the bread in my hand, and some of them were bold enough to take it right out from my fingers.  My dad loved to throw bits of bread and watch them swoop and scoop them out of the air.  It was thrilling and we were all three enchanted by these beautiful sleek creatures of the sea and the wind.

When my parents came to visit us in Winthrop where we first lived, on coming to America, I took them to our nearby beach one grey afternoon with two canvas chairs so they could sit down, for they were already very old, and I gave them bread which they threw to the gulls, and this time it was my turn to look after them, to carry the chairs, to help my mother with her walking stick, to watch them, to take a photograph so that I could look once again at these two most beloved old people when I remembered them today.

I ran 4km today, and could have run longer, but for my stupid green socks which were down the backs of my shoes, and the fact that I was utterly soaked through from beating a path through sodden goldenrod, grass slick with raindrops, and a gentle drizzle.  My path was almost dry by the third circuit, as all the water had been absorbed by my sky-blue spongy shoes, my awful green socks, my trousers, and probably my skin itself!

It took me 35 minutes, so still not good, but at least I know I can still run 5km, it is not beyond me.  Maybe Wednesday will be my next 5km!

I am so so tired tonight, so instead of a drawing, here is an interesting photograph of me in one of those old rooms in Fort Warren on George's Island, me and my ghost.